


Hourglass

by scapeartist



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brotp, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapeartist/pseuds/scapeartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the Captain Charming filler scenes (during and) in between the events of 4x02, "White Out." Charming and Hook try to find Anna so that Elsa will release Emma from the ice cave before Emma freezes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not making any promises that this will turn into another Captain Charming series like "Drinks with the Prince" from last season, but I'm not saying it won't either. We'll just go with the flow and see what happens. 
> 
> Some dialogue is lifted straight from the show (you should be able to recognize it) to transition between what we did and didn't see. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoy this.

Killian is straining to hear Emma's voice, holding the device up so both he and David can listen.

Her voice sounds odd, and not because of the interference coming through the speaker. She sounds as if she's trying to calm a frightened animal before it pounces, and he finds that as worrisome as the block of ice that separates her from him.

" _I'm in here with this woman. She's looking for her sister, Anna. She thinks that Anna is in town because she found a necklace of hers in Gold's shop. She wants us to try to find her before—_ "

Emma is cut off and Killian stops breathing for a moment, about to curse the unreliable piece of equipment in his hand when the voice changes and completes the sentence.

" _...Before I freeze this town and everyone in it._ "

Surprise is not what Killian feels when he hears the threat. There's always a threat. Always some obstacle keeping Emma and him apart whether real or contrived. Emma asked for his patience earlier, and he acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, but now...now he has none left and he hopes she will forgive if he ignores her request.

Killian is shaken, though, at the speed and creativity with which his entire world was torn asunder — not because he never thought it could happen (again), but because he knows it can, and he all but says as much to Emma as he jests about dates on the run from snow monsters. Now here he is, standing on the wrong side of a wall of ice with Emma trapped inside it. _Oh, the irony._ He hates to be proven right in such a dramatic fashion. He hates even more to be shown with such clarity how ill-equipped he is to remedy it.

His tried and true strategies for solving most problems — kiss or kill — unavailable, Killian is off-kilter, left with only his fear and fury, and the fact that the clock has begun ticking down to Emma's imminent death if they cannot comply and find this lass, Anna, before Emma's body temperature drops too far and she well and truly freezes.  

He sees the same realization in David's eyes as the communication device crackles loudly in his hand, both voices from the ice cave silent. The cold from the frozen wall they are standing by is already seeping in through his heavy coat, causing gooseflesh that he attributes to the chill rather than his own alarm, and he's reminded that Emma isn't wearing anything as protective as this. He wishes he'd given it to her now, wishes he had followed her to the ice wall when his instincts told him something didn't feel right. Instead she ventured off without him, leaving him to waste time reassuring David of something the man should have already known, already seen, and long since accepted.

Killian presses the button, blocking out the static so he may speak, and holds the mouthpiece close. "Emma...We're going to get you out," he promises. He hates the broken sound of his voice in his ears and hopes the panic he is desperate to hide from her is masked by the bad connection between them and comes off as confident sincerity instead. He releases the button, anxious to hear her again.

The box squawks and crackles again. " _I know_ ," she says, " _Just h-hurry. Blue's not a good color on me_ ," she quips.

Killian closes his eyes and grips the receiver tightly in his hand. He's awash with a panic unlike anything he's felt since Liam lay dying on the floor of his quarters aboard the _Jewel of the Realm_ , and Milah faced off against Rumplestiltskin all those centuries ago. His chest tightens, and his breath catches as he tries —and fails again— to block those visions from his mind. He'd been helpless to stop the inevitable each time, but this time he's not ignorant of the consequences of Emma's plight, nor is he lashed to a mast, physically unable to intervene. The only thing he has going for him at the moment is his determination to not let history repeat itself for a third time in his life. There has to be another way to save Emma besides searching for someone they don't know for certain they can find. He'll be damned if he is going on some blasted wild goose chase that has little chance of working in their favor. He grits his teeth and brushes by David, his fury overriding his fear, resolving to find another, more immediate, solution.

He can hear the Prince's footsteps closing in behind him and ignores it. He's going to take care of this himself, magic and missing sisters be damned. He shoves the communication device in his coat pocket, then contracts and stretches his hand a few times to loosen it up from the death grip he's been maintaining. He feels a stiffness across his shoulders and down his torso to his legs, making each step away from Emma forced and unnatural.

"We can make it to Gold's shop in less than five minutes," David says as he jogs over to the driver's side of the sheriff's vehicle and opens the door. Killian continues to the back of the car and feels around the insignia affixed to the lid until he recognizes the button that opens the trunk. When he hears the click and sees the door give, he flings it open the rest of the way and begins rummaging around the bag of tools Emma keeps there.

"Hook! What the hell’re you doing?" David shouts, the disbelief unmistakable as he comes around the back of the car, leaving his own door open, the two-tone warning dinging incessantly.

"You are right," Killian bites out, waving his hook in David's direction without stopping to look his way. "This isn't enough."

Finding exactly what he's been seeking mostly by feel in the shadows of the trunk, he clamps his hand around the heavy, hooked, metal rod.  He's intimate with how to wield a hook effectively, and this is just a sturdier version of what he already knows. An acceptable extension of an arm that knows no weakness. _This_ , he thinks as he hefts the crowbar, _I can cause some damage with_.

David spins Killian around by the shoulder and glares at him with a hint of disappointment that makes Killian's stomach churn even though he returns the sharp look with narrowed eyes. He keeps the crowbar low and loose in his grip, even though, at that moment, if it were anyone other than David, the slightest provocation would be enough to trigger a beating the result of which would be a life sentence in the brig for him and a death sentence for his victim. David pointedly ignores Killian's violent intent, and shoves him backward toward the car, Killian's knees buckling when they make contact with the bumper. The crowbar clangs against the long metal bracket, ringing out until the echo becomes a muffled, shapeless sound absorbed by the barrier keeping him from Emma.

"You're _wasting_ time. We need to go find Anna so we can free Emma," David yells, gesturing at the frozen wall before them. “ _That_ is our only option.”

Killian rights himself and moves around David to head in that same direction."No, mate, that’s _your_ option, not mine. You go find this...Anna. _I'm_ going to free Emma. I won't leave her," Killian declares.   

David’s hand snaps out and grabs Killian, his fist curling tightly in the leather of his coat. Leaning in, he forces Killian to see the anguish clearly mirrored in his own face. "Haven't you heard a _single_ word I've said? You _can't_ break through that wall. Not with your hook and not with a fucking crowbar," he says, nodding toward the crowbar Killian’s still clutching. "You think I want to leave her behind? You think I want to be separated from her _for one more second_ myself?" David grinds out. He gives Killian a slight shake. "Don't forget who I am, either, Hook. I told you I'm not just gonna _let_ her die without a fight, and I won't leave you here with the only available means I have right now of communicating with her. We have to do this together or we’re both wasting not only _our_ time, but Emma's. Now get in the _goddamn_ car."

David releases him roughly, and all Killian hears is the clock-like cadence from the door chime still sounding from the inside of the car. It matches the rhythm of the blood pounding in his ears, drowning out reason. He knows David is right. Knows their best chance is to work together. If there is one truth life on a ship teaches a sailor, it's that many hands make for a lighter load. What he doesn't know, and doubts he ever will, is how he is supposed to leave her like this: on the brink of death without having told her exactly what he feels for her. He won't say such a thing from a distance or through the hissing and popping box in his pocket. When he tells her he loves her, she will see it in his face before she hears the words so she will know without question he means what he says. He can't do that with an enormous wall of impenetrable ice separating them. Sighing, he tosses the crowbar back into the trunk and slams the lid shut.

" _Fine!_ " he shouts, letting some of his frustration escape. He stalks off toward the passenger door and snaps it open, its hinges squealing at the disruption.   

David rushes to his side of the car and hops in as Killian practically throws himself into his seat, tugging the door closed with a grunt. "Let's get on with it."

David looks over at Killian with a sincerity that lessens Killian's agitation enough to help him think more clearly.

"Thank you," David says, revving the engine a couple of times before wheeling the car about with a screech of tires.

"You do know the Dark One won't be helping on my account," Killian reminds David, bracing himself with his hand on the dashboard.

"Just let me do all the talking. He'll listen," David assures him.

Killian looks over at David whose small smile is at odds with the hard gleam in his eye as he leans into the steering wheel, willing the car to go faster.

"Oh?" he asks. "What makes you so sure, mate?"

David spares Killian a quick glance. "Have you met my son? _Neal_?"

With that, David presses a button, setting his siren blaring and drowning out any further discussion.

 

* * *

 

The conversation with Rumplestiltskin is blessedly short but extremely infuriating, and Killian wishes he’d kept the crowbar in his possession. He knows with certainty he’d never be able to land a solid hit on the man, and might come out of the altercation worse for wear, but smashing a few glass cases sounds fairly satisfying at the moment. His jaw aches from clenching it over and over, straining to hold his temper while David susses out the information he needs from the reticent shopkeep.  

Something about Rumplestiltskin always makes Killian feel like there is more the crocodile is hiding, and this brief interaction is no different. He remains suspiciously quiet at the mention of the necklace, observing, instead, David’s reaction to seeing the picture Belle hands him. There’s something in his eyes Killian can’t quite put his finger on, but there’s no time to pursue it because the chat with the Dark One and his bride ends with David’s realization that not only does he know this Anna woman, but he can locate her through other means, saving his trump card for a later date. Because as surely as the tide comes in and goes back out again, danger will find its way to Storybrooke and Emma’s family. Knowing who the owner of the necklace is turns out to be enough for David, and with a passing thanks in Belle’s direction, they exit the shop swiftly.

Killian trots a couple of steps to catch up with David who seems to know exactly where he is going, yet is distracted all the same. That David personally knows who they are looking for is news to him — David as well it seems — and he waits to find out how he knows Elsa’s sister and where he suspects she might be, but David remains silent. They pass by two more storefronts heading deeper into town when Killian grabs David’s arm to get his attention.

“Are you going to tell me where we are heading, mate, or should I simply drift along in your wake?” Killian asks.

David turns his head quickly in Killian’s direction and points further down the road. “Chop Shop,” he answers, never breaking stride.

“Is that where Anna is?”

David shakes his head and frowns. “Doubt it. That’s where Bo Peep is though.”

“Bo...Peep. What the bloody hell is a ‘Bo Peep?’” Hook asks, more confused than ever.

“She was a...uh...powerful warlord who extorted money from my mother and me long before I met Snow,” David explains. “Here in Storybrooke, she’s the butcher.”

Killian huffs and cocks an eyebrow. “A warlord butcher named Bo Peep. No doubt she was teased for that moniker one too many times. Would explain her career track,” he surmises. “What exactly does she have to do with finding Anna?” he presses.

David stops in his tracks and Killian follows suit. They are at a gap between buildings that leads to the alley behind the row of shops before them, one of which includes the Chop Shop.

“Listen, I’ll explain it all later. There’s not enough time now. I need you to go around back, break into her place and wait there until I need you. She’s not going to be happy to see me and I could use the back up,” he admits. “She’s already tried to kill me once before, I’m sure she’d have no problem taking another whack at me.”

“Are you sure she’ll give you what we need to find this lass?” Killian asks.

He’s beginning to get concerned with the lack of information being shared with him. He would feel better about Emma’s chances of survival if he knew what to expect from this Bo Peep person. He might be a pirate, but pirates did their research before plundering. You don’t take risks that won’t pay off. It’s the quickest route to mutiny or death. Sometimes both.

David grimaces and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m sure she won’t. But we don’t need _her_. Just something _of_ hers. Trust me. It’ll work,” he says, patting Killian’s shoulder. “Hurry up. I’ll give you a minute before I make my way over. We don’t have more than that to spare. Got it?”

“Aye. I’ll be ready.”

They part company, David glancing at his watch, while Killian blends into the shadows, noiselessly picking his way to the back door of the Chop Shop. He’d had dealings with butchers in the Enchanted Forest and throughout many of the realms he voyaged to who supplied his ship with various salted meats, and he’d never known one to not have stray cats and dogs hovering outside the back door, waiting for scraps the whole day long. The surprising lack of animals ready to make his presence known is fortuitous, and Killian is able to pick the lock and enter the back room as David enters the front door.

Killian hears the unforgettable sound of metal cutting through flesh and bone repeatedly as David confronts this rather nasty sounding woman. He moves to the doorway, careful to stay out of her periphery while maintaining visual contact with David. It takes seconds for David’s supposition that she’d like to kill him come to fruition, and Killian dashes out of the doorway, snagging her cleaver-wielding arm with his hook and hand before she can bring it down into David’s chest.

“Don’t do it!” he shouts, straining against her. David quickly intervenes and relieves Bo Peep of her weapon of choice and tosses it on the chopping block behind him with a clatter.

Watching David interrogate his former extortionist is not an unfamiliar sight to Killian. He’d been on the receiving end of the Prince’s rough handling before, and he knows what to expect, but the longer she resists giving David the information they need, the faster his heart pounds and the deeper the panic sets in. They’d been gone for at least 10 minutes now and time was running out.

“...Hook. Back room. She won’t keep it far from her. You’re looking for a shepherd’s crook,” David interrupts his thoughts, sending him to fetch something of the butcher’s.

Nodding, he returns to the back room and glances about, finding the object in question tucked between two standing freezers. Adorned with flowers and carved with an elaborate design, Killian snatches it and returns to the shop lifting the ridiculous instrument up so David can see he’d retrieved it.

The woman protests loudly, demanding her property back, but David turns away from her with an apology Killian would never categorize as sincere, and she baits him yet again, mocking his role as hero in this world. Killian is becoming impatient as she wastes yet more of their precious time. He’s at the door, about to push it open when he hears the crackle of the communication device come from inside his coat. He hastily leans the crook against the exit and fumbles with the communicator, barely making out Elsa’s frantic voice. Emma’s captor, he realizes is as terrified as he is, and perhaps not the evil witch he’s presumed her to be. Emma’s passed out, he hears. Time is up. Killian stands rooted to his spot, in complete contradiction to how fast heart is racing.  

“Hook….Hook?” David’s voice interrupts.

His eyes meet David’s and he tells Emma’s father what’s been relayed to him: “It’s that woman, Elsa. She said Emma’s passed out. She’s freezing to death.”

The look they exchange needs no interpretation. The dread is evident. David runs for the door, grabbing the crook, and Killian is right behind him, pressing the button on the box hard enough he’s afraid he might break it.

“We’re on our way,” he bellows into the mouth piece. He does not want her to miss a word.  

“ _Please hurry!_ ” Elsa cries.

They run full-tilt toward the cruiser still parked outside Gold’s shop and get in, David tossing Bo Peep’s crook into the seat behind. They’ve barely shut their doors before David is speeding off toward the town line again, not bothering with the siren. Killian feels like even talking is a waste of time and will somehow distract David from going fast enough, but he voices his concern, regardless.

“We don’t have Anna,” Killian reminds David.  

“Doesn’t matter right now. We’ll be able to find her with that,” David jabs his thumb in the direction of the back seat where the crook is.

“What if it’s not enough?” he asks, voice wavering at the thought of all the things he feels he’s lacking — patience, ability to break through ice, and time. Not just time enough to save Emma but to love her properly. He’s learning to have hope for a future, but he’s hesitant to voice it, and too pragmatic to believe hope alone will save this day. Killian gave up praying to deities long ago, and he knows better than to make deals with demons, but he considers revisiting each if it will allow him one more chance to show Emma what she means to him. 

David purses his lips together, concentrating on the road as he speeds past the last of the populated area. “It has to be,” he says softly. Clearing his throat he declares, “It will be.”


End file.
